What Is Love?
by southernbelle08
Summary: Arthur presents his case of what he believes love to be, based on his marriage to Molly, in an attempt to sway Remus to repair his relationship with Tonks. AWMW RLNT


**A/N:** Hope you like the story! I wrote it really late at night so forgive any loose connections--you probably know what I mean anyway. Please R&R! Not only would I love to hear whether or not you liked the story, but also thoughts on what I had to say about love. Did I miss anything really important? Did I over-emphasize something? Did I completely miss it? Did I hit it spot on the nose? (Well, all right, I know I didn't hit it spot on the nose...) But anyway please review because this work means a little more to me than did the others. Thanks!

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In the old wingback chair in the library of 12 Grimmauld Place, Arthur Weasley sat with his favorite Christmas present, a book entitled _100 Muggle Contraptions and Where to Find Them_. Not long had passed since he'd received it—the children had returned to Hogwarts only four days ago—yet he had already read it twice from cover to cover. But on this chilly night as he relaxed in front of a soft fire and sipped the cocoa Molly had made for him before she went to bed, he had bigger things on his mind than muggles and their contraptions. He was thinking of a certain young man and a certain young woman, meant to be together but, for the most foolish of reasons, apart.

As Arthur considered the young man in question, perched there on the sofa, bent forward with his elbows on his knees and staring unseeingly into the popping fire, he reflected again on the mess that should have been love. Arthur was not what he would call an intellectual, but as far as he could understand, these were the bare bones of the situation: Tonks and Remus were in love, but Remus took it upon himself to determine what was and wasn't good for Tonks and therefore broke the relationship.

He did his best to understand Remus' actions, and he was fairly sure he knew where Remus was coming from, but he had gotten it totally muddled. Molly had spent hours on end railing at Remus, desperately trying to set right this one true, certain thing while the rest of the world spun wild with deception and chaos. Remus would set his jaw and bear the shouting and tears; Arthur would just silently sit and sadly shake his head.

Arthur didn't blame Molly for her tirades; he knew exactly what she was feeling. It was like watching a travesty of their own lives—two people clearly made for one another, but instead of marrying and thriving in mutual love, they were forcing themselves apart and making themselves miserable.

Miserable, indeed, was the word. As he regarded Remus over top of his book, he saw not gloom or melancholy—he saw despair, anguish. Oh, he hid it well. A casual observer would see nothing more than a blank face with a firm jaw, but Arthur could see everything he needed to know written in his eyes. It broke his heart to watch Remus cause himself the pain. And to think of Tonks, suffering not for her own mistakes but for Remus' poor judgement—did the man not know what love is?

"What is love?" Arthur asked aloud. His own voice surprised him. Up until then he had kept his thoughts to himself, or at least between him and Molly. However, he decided he may as well pursue the question, so he softly closed his book and took a sip of cocoa.

For a long time Remus did not respond. Arthur wondered whether he had heard him and was about to repeat when Remus replied, still staring into the fire, "To deny oneself for the good of another."

Arthur considered him carefully. "I'd say that's it."

Remus rubbed his brow but still did not look up. "What's your point?" he asked wearily.

"My point," said Arthur after a pause, "is that if that's your definition, you're doing a poor job of loving her."

"I'm denying myself, and it's for her good."

Arthur swirled his cocoa in the mug. "There's no doubt you're denying yourself," he said slowly, "But I wonder...is it really for her good?'

"Yes, for her good." He said it with resignation, not anger. "She can't _live_ if she's stuck with me."

His response was instantaneous. "Define 'live.'"

The quickness of his words caused Remus to glance up at Arthur, but he quickly resumed his contemplation of the fire. "Live," he repeated, working to explain himself. "Eat, sleep, work, learn. Pursue happiness, follow dreams, strive for success. _Live_."

Arthur was shaking his head softly. "Remus." He looked up, and Arthur felt the intensity of those incisive blue eyes on his brown ones. "I can assure you that I have spent my entire life doing everything you call living, yet not for one minute did I live—not until I met Molly. Up until then I had done nothing but _exist_—I hadn't lived at all. To give up Tonks for her to just _exist_. I've been there. It's emptiness. Deadness." He paused and began to speak more softly, as if to himself. "With Molly, everything became more real, more purposeful. Before Molly, everything I had ever done had been for myself—what a worthless life! Working my life away to advance myself in a world of shallow cares and passing values...so useless. But when Molly came along, I had something to work for, someone to _live_ for. I wanted—I _want_ to do everything for her because she deserves it."

Arthur paused, and saw that Remus was still staring piercingly at him, considering his words. He decided to press on. "I've heard you say over and over how Tonks deserves better than you. I know exactly how you feel! Molly deserves so much better than _me_. She has given me seven beautiful children and all I have to offer her in return is the most meager income to support them. But that doesn't matter to her. All she wants of me, and I say this with complete humility, is _me_. Remus, Tonks wants _you_. It's not yours to decide whether or not it's in her best interest. That is beyond you—beyond her, even. If you truly love her, you will give her what is best for her—life. Know that it's not arrogant or proud for you to say that only with you she can _live_, anymore than it would be for her to say that only with her could _you_ live—you know that's true. All you want is her and all she wants is you. That's how true love works, anyway: both people want to wholly give themselves up to the other, and the happy coincidence that those fit perfectly is what makes love so..."

Arthur hesitated. He couldn't think of a word big enough to describe the magnitude of what he was trying to express. Remus was still looking at him, weighing all the thoughts in his head. Arthur may have settled on "Everything," knowing that the word fell far short of doing the idea justice, but he was too full to even think care about it. Eventually Remus turned again to the fire to mull things over. Arthur was fairly certain he had made an impression, but he honestly couldn't sit still and think it over. Before he knew it he was on his feet, half-walking, half-running out of the library and down the hall, leaving Remus alone in thought.

He reached his bedroom and opened the door softly, finding the woman he loved so dearly sleeping soundly in their bed. He strode over and bent to plant a slow kiss on her cheek. "I love you," he whispered in her ear.

Molly smiled.

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Dedicated to the captain.


End file.
